


Just Hold On

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canon, Christmas fic, Danielle is only at the beginning, Family, Harry's always there, Hurt/Comfort, Jay's death is mentioned, Kids, Kissing, Love, M/M, Sex, So so so much love, This is a LARRY fic after all, bc it's larry duh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:47:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: "Everyone’s in the living room. Dan’s family has come and gone, they’ve done the dishes, and Harry’s parents went their way too. He stayed, because everybody asked him to. Well, everybody but Louis. Still. He stayed."(Based on the fact that Harry totally is there for Louis and his (ahem, their) family through everything.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheswicked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheswicked/gifts).



> Hi, there. It took me a while to post this - obviously because Christmas has passed! -, because I didn't know if it'd be a good idea, but a couple of friends have read it and said that I should. Sometimes reading about something, even if it hurts, helps us comprehend and feel a little bit comforted. That's how I felt writing this.

                Harry was ready for this to be a different Christmas. Of course he was. Jay is gone. As in, not here anymore; not ever going to be here again. Harry didn’t go shopping earlier this week for ingredients. Harry didn’t wake up to a text message saying _I’m about to get started on dinner, come help me downstairs xx_. Neither did he wake up with kids pulling his hair and Louis laughing at him for being somewhat grumpy, even if Louis gets grumpy himself.

            Because, you see, Jay is gone. He said that, right? Yeah. She’s not here. And he isn’t Louis’ boyfriend anymore. Therefore, there was no point in going shopping, no one to invite him to start making Christmas Eve dinner at nine am, no kids pulling his hair in Louis’ bed, because he doesn’t sleep with Louis anymore.

            Yep, Harry was ready for this to be a different Christmas. He just didn’t know it could get _this bad_ :

 

            Everyone’s in the living room. Dan’s family has come and gone, they’ve done the dishes, and Harry’s parents went their way too. He stayed, because everybody asked him to. Well, everybody but Louis. Still. He stayed.

            Phoebe and Daisy are talking to Louis’ girlfriend. Doris is asleep in his own lap, Ernest in Lottie’s boyfriend’s arms. Harry likes him – Tommy, his name is. He’s a great lad and helped them through a lot in this fucking difficult year. More than Harry could, even if he drove here every chance he got.

            They’re all talking amongst themselves, tone low, no one daring to disturb the magic that only a Christmas’ Eve can hold. Harry used to think it had little to do with Christmas and more to do with the twenty-fourth of December being Louis’ birthday. He used to think many things he doesn’t now.

            “What are you doing on boxing day, Hazz?” Lottie asks.

            “Think I’m gonna meet a few mates from school for a beer or something.”

            “In Cheshire?”

            “Yeah. Wanna go?”

            “Can’t.” She shrugs and looks at the children.

            Harry looks at Louis, waiting for him to volunteer to watch Doris and Ernest while his sister goes out, but he doesn’t even move, too entertained with something on his phone. Dan speaks next, then.

            “You should go; I’ll probably take them out.”

            “Oh… Okay.”

            “Aren’t you going to dad’s with us?” Fizzy questions. “We’re supposed to stay there till New Year’s.”

            “I can go there tomorrow for lunch, Tommy’s mom at night and then drive up to Holmes Chapel the next day… We can. Right?” She looks at Tommy. “Harry’s friends are very nice.” Lottie tells him. Harry pretends he doesn’t hear Louis’ snort. He’s always been jealous of Harry’s friends.

            “Sure, babe.” He answers her. “Think I’m gonna put this lad to bed…”

            “Y-yeah, same.” Harry says talking about Doris. “She’s heavy, Jesus.” He chuckles when he gets up, feeling his back already.

            Sometimes Harry hates that he is an eighty-year old.

            “I’ll take her, Harry, it’s fine”, Dan offers. “Don’t hurt your back any more than you already did recording that movie.” He chuckles.

            “Thanks.” Harry tells him, letting him take Doris from his arms, but not before kissing her head sweetly. He walks towards Tommy and does the same to Ernest, then off they go.

           

            Harry grabs a glass of wine again. He’s in much need of it.

          “Fizz has got that face on”, Phoebe notices aloud. It’s more directed to her twin, who nods along, but everyone hears.

            “What face?” Danielle asks.

            “Her disapproval one.” Daisy explains. “It’s because Lottie won’t stay at dad’s, isn’t it? Louis isn’t either.” She shrugs.

            “I just think that if he wants to spend more time with us we should do the same.” Félicité answers, looking at Lottie.

            “He doesn’t want to spend more time with us, he just pities us because mom is dead.” Louis voices.

            Harry, for one, cannot believe what he’s just heard, and everyone stays silent after that.

            “What? It’s true.” Louis says.

            “You could’ve said it in a nicer way.” Charlotte complains.

            She looks tired; tired and much older than eighteen. Harry doesn’t think life has been very fair to her lately. But then again, life hasn’t been fair to _any_ of them this past year.

            Louis snorts again and rolls his eyes for good measure. Harry’s used to it, because this is how Louis deals with pain: he doesn’t. He makes fun of things and people, he pretends he doesn’t care, he drinks more often than not and he has more sex in a week than in a month. Louis is a bit self-destructive and, at times, when he’s hurting really bad, he starts to destroy others around him too.

            Harry knows that. His sisters do, too. But there is one person in the room who doesn’t and, funnily enough, it’s the only person with whom Louis spends “quality” time with: Danielle.

            And she is the one who starts talking.

            “Guys, this is a hard time for everyone, we all know…” She puts on that condescending face that Harry absolutely hates. “It’s not easy to lose someone so close to us, especially not near important dates like birthdays and Christmases, but it is important for us all to remember that this is a family…”

            Harry tunes out.

            He can’t really listen to her and not throw up.

            This time is not about jealousy. He isn’t over Louis, he’s made peace with the fact that he’s _never_ going to get over him, but this isn’t about _Louis_. This is about a girl who’s been here for such little time acting as if she understands this family. This is about her trying to use _Jay’s death_ to warm her way into these people’s hearts, since only Daisy and Phoebe can stand her.

            This is about Jay not being here and no one knowing how to handle life after she’s gone; about her having left a huge family who used to look up to her for guidance – Harry included. This is about hurt, not comfort. There is no comfort that can be given, not from _outside_ at least. Danielle is an outsider, and Harry wishes she weren’t here.      

            She is, though, and she keeps talking.

            “… I’m sure Louis didn’t mean what he said, Lots.” _Lots_. Harry can see Charlotte breathing heavily and doing her best not to roll her eyes at the girl. “And my love”, she turns to Louis, _blergh_ , “you should be nicer to your sisters, I know how much you loved your mom, but so did your sisters and—”

            “Oh my God, _shut up, Danielle_.” Harry sighs tiredly and then is taken aback by his own words.

            Of course _shut up, shut up, shut up_ was all he was thinking while she was talking, but he didn’t really think he’d voice that. But now he has. And everyone is staring at him.

            Well, once out, better go all the way, right?

            “Just shut up. You don’t know _a thing_ about what this family is going through. You have _no_ idea of what they’re feeling, or what _I’m_ feeling for all that it’s worth. You _don’t_ _get_ to call Lottie _Lots_ and talk to her like you’re the best of friends because of the circumstances. You _don’t_ _get_ to mention Jay to them like you knew the first thing about her, as if she even _liked_ you. You _don’t_ _get_ to speak for Louis and say he didn’t mean what he said…”

            “Because he did.” Harry concludes. “He meant every hurtful thing he’s said for the past few weeks, because guess what? His mom is _dead_. _Their_ mom is dead. D’you have any idea of what that does to a person?” He frowns, asking. Lottie puts a hand on his shoulder, and he notices by the corner of his eye that Dan and Tommy are back, a bit startled to say the least.

            “Stop with the freaking speeches for fuck’s sake.” He’s gesticulating now; it’s a sign that he’s really irritated. Plus, Harry never speaks this fast. Except that now he is.

            “They’re all pissed off but not with each other, especially not Louis. Lottie _knows_ he meant it, but she also knows that this is how he copes. Which is why _she_ is the one who’s been taking care of everyone since Jay got sick, is why _she_ is the one who’s been dragging him out of parties every other night while Tommy and Dan try and make Ernie and Doris sleep.”

            “I—”

            “No. _Shut up_. Maybe you mean well, _maybe_.” Harry tells her. “Maybe I’m hurting as fuck too, and maybe I’m putting it all on you now. But maybe, just _maybe_ instead of making up excuses for your boyfriend in front of everyone, you should try and talk to him in private and ask him how he feels. Because here’s the thing: Louis won’t _tell you_. He won’t tell you anything unless you push him, and Jesus—”

            “It can drive you _mad_ sometimes, I know.” He keeps saying. “But he has _you_ now, okay? You’re the only person he doesn’t need to take care of and the only person who’s there for him. Every male figure in his life has left him. His _dad_ , his _stepdad_ , _me_.” Fuck. He might be crying. He doesn’t know. “ _I_ left him too. And he had his mom. And his mom left too. So let him fucking yell and be whatever he wants to. Let them all do. Make sure you’re there for them, but don’t patronize anyone. Don’t sugarcoat the fact that Johanna _died_ ; and do not use it to get points with the girls. It’s quite low and, to be honest, even you can’t be this petty.”

            Charlotte chuckles. She actually chuckles. Fizzy follows and Tommy hides his face behind his girlfriend back. Dan remains silent. So do the twins.

            Louis… Louis speaks.

            “What—” he begins, gets up, “what makes you think you can talk to my _girlfriend_ like this?” He asks, standing in front of Harry. “ _You_ left _me_ , if I recall it correctly. And I do, because you just admitted it yourself. _You_ walked away from _me_. So what gives you the fucking _right_ to come here, in the first place? I _let_ you stay here to be nice. Because mom loved you. Because everyone in this house thinks the sun shines out of your ass. But _I_ don’t want you here; I was being _nice_. Now I’m not going to be nice because _fuck you,_ Harry.”

            “Louis.” Dan tries to stop him.

            “No.” He responds. “ _Don’t Louis me_. You’re not my dad either, Dan.” Louis says and gets back to Harry. “ _You_ don’t get to be here and lecture my girlfriend on what she knows or doesn’t about me. _You_ don’t get to speak for my family and _you_ don’t get to miss _my_ mother as much as we do. _You_ don’t get to speak about my losses like you were there for every single one of them—”

            “Oh, we need to disagree, because I was.” Harry gets up too. He _so_ didn’t want to have this fight here. But once they implode, they implode. “Can you count the nights we talked about your father? Because I can’t. Can you remember the day I drove you to his house in the middle of the night just so you could yell at him? Or, _oh_ , let’s remember Mark, who sends me tweets every now and then just because. D’you know that he still texts me to know how you are? How many lunches have we had together?”

            Harry laughs. He _laughs_ at how startled Louis is.

            “I’m not even gonna mention Jay because I can’t quite cry in the middle of a fight, now can I? But I was there, Lou. I have _always_ been there. Even when you didn’t want me to. Even _now_ that you _don’t_ want me to, I am here. Because Lottie can’t do this on her own. She’s _eighteen_. The same age _you_ were when you had to take care of everyone, and you needed help. So does she. She’s taking care of everyone with her boyfriend, who is younger than us, too.”

            “And last of all- I—I _know_ you, okay? I don’t know many things in life, but you— _I know you, Lou_. And I don’t care if you don’t want me here, because _I_  want to be here. Because even if you don’t need me, I kind of need to be next to you right now. Even if you don’t need me. Even if you hate me.” Harry sighs.

            “And I’m sorry.” He then turns to Danielle. “I’m sorry I was so harsh. I’m usually more polite than that. But I wasn’t lying. You don’t know the first thing about him… About any of them. I guess you’ll learn, though, since, you know, you’re a part of the family now.” Harry rubs his face. “’M gonna go.”

            “Harry, no.” Fizzy asks. “It’s too late.”

            “Let him go, Félicité.” Louis tells her.

            “ _No_.” She says again. “You don’t even live here anymore, Louis. You come and go as you please, because you’re our brother and we love you, but you don’t live here. We do. And—Harry should stay.”

            “I really don’t need to-”

            “I’ll sleep with the girls, take my room.” Fizzy cuts him off again. “Maybe tomorrow morning my ass of a brother will apologize to everyone. If he can stay sober till ten am.”

            “Félicité-”

            “Don’t you dare raise your voice to her, Louis.” Charlotte gets up. “We should all go to bed.”

            “Yeah, we should. Girls?” Dan looks to Daisy and Phoebe.

            “We’re going.”

            Daisy is the first one to come say goodnight to Harry. She’s always been closer to him than Phoebe, somehow. He loves them both equally.

            “We want you here, too, Harry.” She hugs him, and he bends down. “But we like Danielle, too. Is that okay?” The girl whispers in his ear.

            “Of course it is. I’m not here to compete with anyone”, he chuckles, and very lowly, he says: “I’m just hurting too.”

            Daisy kisses him on the cheek and then he turns to Phoebe, who does the same as her sister. Harry picks her up though, and she laughs unabashedly.

            “You know I’m not six anymore, right?”

            “You’ll always be six in my heart.” He smiles and kisses her.

            “I love you, Harry.”

            “Love you too.” He hugs tighter and then lets her go. “Guess I’ll take up on your offer then?” Harry looks at Fizzy.         

            “C’mon, we’ll get you settled.”

            “I’ll take you some clothes in a couple of minutes, mate.” Tommy says and gets up.     

            “Thanks.” He smiles. “Night, Lottie.”

            “Night, bro.” She hugs him. _“Thank you_ ”, she whispers in his ear, “for saying everything I couldn’t.”

            “Welcome.” He smiles. “I’m… Sorry. For the scene.” He apologizes to Dan.

            “You’ve helped us _so_ much for the past… Years.”  Dan says. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. See you tomorrow, H.” He stretches a hand but Harry hugs him. Styles are huggers after all.

            And then there are two:

            “I’m sorry again.” He talks to Danielle. “Good night.”

            “I’m not trying to compete with you, you know?” She speaks louder, getting up. “I’m not because I—I can’t, clearly.” She says a bit hysterical and looks around. “You win, Harry. This and every round. And you’re right, I don’t know a thing. Louis doesn’t let me know a thing. I’m with him for a year now? And yet I only know the basics about him.”

            “You’ll get there.” Harry smiles a bit, then looks at Louis, nods, and follows Fizzy upstairs.

 

            Tommy hands him pajamas pants and a white tee ten minutes later, and thanks him for having stayed, then says Lottie expects him to stay for breakfast too and Harry doesn’t really know if he can do that, but he promises he’ll see when he wakes up.   

            Harry can’t sleep, is the thing, but then again he didn’t expect to, not after fighting with Louis. He never slept in the past if they had an argument, so he isn’t surprised that _that_ hasn’t changed. Nothing has, really. Except for the fact that pretty much everything has. It’s complicated. Their relationship is complicated.

            They broke up somewhere around two thousand fourteen. Or at least Harry thinks so. Yes, they did. _Officially_. And then they stayed together for three more months, because it was kind of impossible to stay away from each other, even though they weren’t exclusive anymore.

            That was when Louis got Briana pregnant, and when Harry decided to give Xander a chance. They stopped, they never looked back to bed, but they remained friends. Until… Until the band went on a break, and Louis lost his shit and Harry wasn’t much better.

            Now here they are. Finished, but clearly not done with each other. Harry doesn’t know what to do with that, so he puts on some McFLY to play. He was talking to Niall the other day and his friend told him that that was what he used to listen to when he was stressed out.

            Harry presses play and it’s on shuffle. _Shuffle_ puts it on _Too Close for Comfort_. He likes the pain.

 

            It’s only when the music is over, another one about to begin that he hears a knock on the door.

            It’s Louis.

            “What are you doing here?” Harry sighs.

            “I hate you.” Louis whispers.

            “Go to sleep, Louis.”

            “No, Harry. I need to—I _hate_ you.”

            “You made that pretty clear already, Louis. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

            “I hate you.” He says again, weaker this time.

            “Okay.”

            “ _I hate you_.” He closes his eyes. He repeats it over and over again. Like a mantra. Like he’s trying to convince himself that he hates Harry.

            Harry knows this tactic too well. He’s said _I hate Louis_ in front of the mirror many times, trying to make it the truth. He never did.

            “How many times d’you need to say it?” Harry finally sighs and walks back to the bed, sitting there and leaving the door open.

            “I don’t know.” Louis admits. “How much can you take?”

            “Hit me with your best shot.” He waits.

            “I hate you, Harry.” Louis says, entering the room. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” His voice gets weaker and weaker every time. “I _hate_ you. _I_ hate you. I hate _you_. I—” Louis is crying.

            Harry can take many things. He can’t take Louis crying. He pulls him by the hand and Louis collapses against his body, hugging him by the neck and fitting himself in between Harry’s legs.

            “I can’t hate you.” The older man voices in a pained tone. “Fuck, I can’t hate you.” He lets go of him, stands up straight again. “I’m sorry.”

            “I’m sorry too.” Harry rubs his own face, a few tears wanting to escape. “I shouldn’t have talked to her like that.”

            “You just voiced all of my family’s thoughts, I think.” He shrugs. “It’s not her fault she doesn’t know me, you know?”

            “She mentioned that, yeah.”

            “Yeah.” He looks up. “You left.”

            “I broke up with you before you could destroy me completely, Louis. Doesn’t mean you stopped being the most important person in my life. I am here now, aren’t I? I’ve been here all along. You just don’t want me here.”

            “I don’t. But I—still need you, anyways.”

            “I know.”

            “Okay.”

            “Okay.”

            “Goodnight, Harry.”

            “Night, Lou.”

 

            Harry still doesn’t sleep.

 

-

 

            In the morning, things are better. When Harry gets downstairs there are only Lottie, Dan and Danielle talking quietly amongst themselves and he says a low _good morning_ before going for the kettle on the kitchen counter.

            “Sleep well?” Lottie asks him.

            “Just fine.” He lies. “You?”

            “Same.” She gives him a pointed look.

            “I didn’t. Haven’t been sleeping for weeks how.” Dan’s the first one to say the truth, eyes watery. “She was supposed to be here, you know?” He speaks, not looking at anyone in particular. “She was supposed to be here, and help me wrap presents and dress me up as Santa and—she.” Lottie’s the closest to him, so she hugs him.

            Harry can see that she’s almost crying too, but then again so is he.

            He stays quiet, though. Holds Lottie’s hand and squeezes it tight.

            “She’s so proud of all of you.” Harry tells him. “ _All_. And she—she’s looking down on us now, isn’t she?”

            “Yeah.” Lottie lets go of her stepdad and smiles. “ _No crying allowed after I’m gone_ , she said.”

            “I think a bit of crying is allowed.” Harry offers.

            “It is.” Dan agrees. “But smiling is too.” He then smiles.

            “Cheers.” Danielle raises her cuppa.

            “Cheers.” Harry replies and knocks his on hers.

 

            It’s a proper Christmas morning. One by one, everyone comes downstairs and they have breakfast together. Harry, once again, stays. He only leaves when the girls are leaving for Mark’s and Dan is leaving to his family’s place with the younger twins.

            He’s almost in the car when Louis talks to him.

            “You know, Harry… Mark would like to see you.”

            No one believes he’s said that. Harry needs to answer quickly.

            “I… Need to see my dad, too, and it’s kind of a long drive.” He excuses. “Tell Mark I said hi, yeah?”

            “Okay. Merry Christmas.”

            “You too.”

            Harry waves one more time and drives away.

 

-

 

            It’s the twenty-seventh and if somebody asks Harry to play another round of scrabble, he’ll kill someone. Don’t get him wrong, he really, really loves this game. But he’s been playing it since he came home, whenever he wanted to do something outdoors but gave up last minute since he wasn’t in the mood to meet fans around.

            It gets exhausting, always being asked to take pictures, smile for cameras, sign pieces of paper. And although he appreciates it all, knows how lucky he is, it’s gotten to a point in which he needs to distance himself from his own fame so as to remember who he really is.

            He works on their winter garden with Anne, listens to her talking about how sad she is because the snow destroyed the grass, the plants and flowers she spent all spring and fall trying to cultivate, meanwhile there’s some Fleetwood Mac playing in the background.

            He talks to Robin, watches American football with him and tries to convince his stepdad that it’s an incredible game (and fails). He watches movies with Gemma, he cooks, he—he’s bored.

            Harry spent the entire year working, even when he was supposed to be on vacations, and now that he’s got nothing to do, simply waiting for the movie promo season to start and he’s completely and utterly bored. Bored Harry is never good.

 

            He’s in the middle of rereading a poetry book when there’s a soft knock on the door.

            “Darling, you awake?” His mother asks as she puts her head inside the room.

            “I am, mom. Just reading.” He answers, closing the book.

            “Louis wants to see you.”

            “Come again?”

            “Louis is here. He’s talking to Robin, but uh- he came to talk to you. Said you weren’t picking up your phone, but I told him you turned it off…”

            “Y-yeah, yeah.” He rubs his face, sits up straighter on the bed. “Mind asking him to come up here?”          

            “Sure.” She smiles. “He… He doesn’t look like he’s okay. Not like he was on his birthday, at least.”

            “He wasn’t okay on his birthday either.” Harry replies too quickly and Anne grimaces, nodding and saying she’ll tell him to come up. Harry doesn’t really do anything but sit on his bed putting the book away and waiting for him to get here.

           

            (It’s been a long time since Louis came here. Harry thinks it was Gemma’s birthday last year, which… Yeah, more than one year ago. Nothing’s changed, but… It’s still weird.)

 

            Another knock on the door and Louis comes in.

            “I tried to warn you that I was coming, but your phone was off.” Is the first thing he says.

            “You have mom’s, Robin’s, Gemma’s _and_ this house’s phones.” Harry responds.

            “I—”

            “It’s okay, Louis.” He offers him a smile but Louis doesn’t return. “What are you doing here?”

            “I-” he sighs, walking closer. Harry nods towards the bed so he can sit across from him. “I miss mum.” Louis doesn’t look him in the eyes when he says it. He stares at his hands, head down, hair falling on his forehead.

            “Oh.”

            “I miss my mom every second of every freaking day and I don’t know what to do with myself, Harry, _what do I do?_ ”

            “Come here.” He opens his arms. Louis doesn’t waste any time, just hugs him and closes his eyes very strongly, tears escaping them without any control, and Harry clears his throat before speaking again. “You’re allowed to miss her, and you’re allowed to cry for her. For as long as you can. As many times as you want.” He whispers, rocks Louis like he’s putting a baby to sleep.

            “I miss my mom, H, but I… I miss you too. And I’m really tired of pretending that I don’t.” He says to his chest.

            And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. Harry’s been hurt quite a few times in life. Now it’s like all of those times put together.

            His heart is aching. He doesn’t know what Louis wants from him.

            “You said I- you said I’m not really there for my family, and you—you said Lots is having to do everything by herself and…”

            “I’m sorry about that.”

            “No.” Louis looks at him, freeing himself from the hug. “No. You are right.” He swallows thickly. “You made my mother’s funeral arrangements, Harry. You stayed with Daisy and Phoebe and you and your mom and Gems took them to the X Factor when Dan said he wouldn’t make it with the smaller twins.” Louis states. “You took care of them when _Lottie_ was taking care of _me_ , dragging me out of that after party. I saw the picture, you—you’d been crying backstage, too, and I was smashed, drunk out of my mind.”

            “You’re grieving.”

            “Oh well.” He sighs. “I do it in a pretty shitty way, don’t I?”

            “Doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

            “You bought them all Christmas presents and put my name on it, like I was the one who did that. It made me _so_ mad on Christmas Eve, I wanted to strangle you because _how can you be so good_? And how the fuck did I manage to lose you?”

            Harry freezes at that. He doesn’t know either. Better yet, he _does_ know. It was the timing and the fights because of the closet thing. It was Zayn about to leave the band and then Zayn actually leaving the band. It was Louis partying every other night. It was the never-ending stunts.

            It was… It was Harry demanding something Louis wasn’t ready to give. It was him not knowing how to handle their relationship being hidden anymore. It was _him_ taking Louis for granted and Louis doing the same to him. It was them both forgetting what _home_ was about.

            It was a lot of small things, that together made them walk away from each other; that made _Harry_ walk away from Louis, and made Louis let him go without a fight.

            In spite of it all, there is one truth that remained: Louis did not lose Harry. Not even close.

            He tells him that.

            “You didn’t lose me. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

            “Yeah, but you’re not- _mine_.” _Yes, I am. I am. I am._

            “You have someone that is yours, though.” He chooses to say. “And I was a right ass to her. Which, you know, I’m sorry, _again_.”

            “About that…” Louis scratches behind his ear, the way he always does when he wants to confess to something. “She went back home yesterday. We- we broke up.”

            Harry widens his eyes but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t understand why he feels relieved, why he’s _breathing_ better, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is.

            “Oh.”

            “That’s all?” Louis chuckles. “You make a scene, we fight, I tell you my girlfriend broke up with me and all you have to say is _oh_?”

            “I don’t know what else to say, Louis.”

            “She thinks I’m in love with you, which is ridiculous, because until my birthday this year she didn’t even know we’d dated. She didn’t know I was bi, she didn’t know you were… Not straight. She didn’t know anything. She caught it all in the middle of the discussion, and then got really pissed when we went back to our rooms.”

            “Oh.”

            “She said she couldn’t believe the internet was right, you know? That I was _actually_ uncomfortable around her and that I was still hung up on you. I guess I didn’t want the internet to be right either, since I stayed with her this long.”

            “Oh.”

            “STOP SAYING OH!” He raises his voice irritated. “She was a good friend, you know?” Louis continues. “People didn’t like her much, _mom_ never really liked her, always looked right pissed off when she was around.”

            “She was good to me, though. She was what I needed on a year like this.”

            “And what was that?” Harry asks.

            “ _Easy_.” He shrugs. “It’s terrible, I know, but it’s the truth. I didn’t care that she was kind of using my fame or whatever our fans said… At the end of the day she made me laugh and come, so.”

            “You’re right. It is terrible.”

            “I know. Been doing a lot of terrible things for God knows how long. It’s not _just_ because my mom died, Harry, I really lost track of myself for the past couple of years. And it doesn’t matter how many hospitals I visit, how many millions I donate to charity, at the end of the day I’m still a shitty person.”

            “You’re not.” He says and Louis is about to stop him again, but Harry doesn’t let him. “Listen- I’m not making up excuses for you, okay? You _have_ done some questionable things this year and the last, but- look around, Louis. Look how many people love you. And I’m not talking about our fans now, I’m talking about people _in your life_.”

            “Why d’you think Lottie’s doing everything without complaining? And Fizz? Why d’you think Dan and your grandparents and Mark and everyone’s letting you off the hook?” He asks.

            “I don’t know.”

            “Because you’ve been through hell and back, Louis. With everything, since you were a _child_. And yes, you’re lashing out now, but one year and a half after _twenty-three_ years of being screwed over is not that bad. Your friends—Luke, Stan, Oli—Liam, Niall—they all _worship_ the ground you walk on. And so do I.” He sighs. “Fuck, you have no idea how _proud_ I am of you.”  

            “You’re the strongest person I know. Through it all you—you’re raising a kid even though you’re scared shitless; you got a song to number one even after being told over and over again that you couldn’t do it. You made your mother _so_ proud.”

            “I am not saying you haven’t been being an asshole, because _you have_. But God knows you have some credit to do it and still be… You.”

            Harry finishes his speech and realizes that Louis is crying. But it’s okay, because he is crying too.

            He stays silent for a long time, just taking in Harry’s words and trying to regulate his breaths. Harry says quietly that he’ll go downstairs get some water and that he’ll be right back.

 

            “Oh, was just going up—” he meets Robin on the stairs. “Your mom and I are going out to have some dinner, was gonna ask if you guys want anything.”

            “N-no, it’s okay. I’ll make us something if he gets hungry. Was just going to get some water.” Harry says, going down the stairs with Robin again. “Thanks, though.”

            “Everything all right, H?” His stepdad asks.

            “As okay as they can be.” He smiles and receives a pat on the back. Robin says goodbye and Harry continues his way towards the kitchen.

            He gets them water and goes back upstairs. The house is even more silent now that the TV is off and there’s no music playing. Harry enters the room and finds Louis still on the same position. He hands him the water and turns on the radio, some seventies song is playing and it’s good enough, so he turns the volume down a bit and goes back to bed.

            “Did one of the girls tell you what we found in mom’s things when we were… Sorting them to, uh, donate her stuff?” Louis asks.

            “No. What?”

            “Her first wedding ring.” Louis tells him. “Mark’s and hers. She kept it in a box full of random things, small tags with our names on it… Mine and my siblings. Some of her friends.”

            “That was nice of her.”

            “Yeah…”

            “She wrote a will, but I’m sure you know that since you got her book collection.” He chuckles.

            “Mom got some things, too.” Harry muses.

            “She was her best friend after all.” Louis says and Harry nods. “Anyway, the rings. We found it and- like, she wanted me to have them.”

            “That’s good, Lou.”

            “It was tagged— _give it to Lou and Harry when one of them pops the question_.” He tells him.

This time Harry can’t even say _oh_.

            “And I can’t help but think that I disappointed her when we broke up and she had to deal with a girl she didn’t even like. She didn’t want _me_ to have the rings, H, she wanted _us_ to have them, she—she thought we’d get married.”

 

            “So did we.” Harry says after a while.

            “So did we.” Louis sighs and takes his hand. “I wanted everything with you, you know? I used to, like—daydream about us, and our families together and our- kids. I—”

            “Me too.” _God, this hurts_.

            “Are you seeing anyone? I mean- seriously?”

            “No.”

            “Good.” Then Louis surges forwards to kiss him, desperate, hungry, sontrongly.

            Harry’s first reaction is to kiss back because it’s never _not_ going to be that. His hand goes straight to Louis’ nape, gripping the hair there while Louis cradles his face in his hands. Their tongues meet quickly and slide against each other like old friends that have missed one another more than anything else in the world. They kiss like two lovers that were never satiated until now.

            He lies back on the bed and brings Louis with him, feeling the other lad’s weight on his body and reveling in it. Time stands still, his breath’s ragged and his mind’s fuzzy and Harry doesn’t know if this is right, but—but he wants it _so bad_ , even if it’s not… Appropriated, given their—current relationship. Or, you know, _lack_ of relationship.

            “Lou-Lou—” Harry places both hands on Louis chest. Louis looks at him. “Is this… Should we- should we be doing this?  ”

            “Dunno, H, but I’ve been talking myself out of jumping on you for over a year now—so unless you tell me to fuck off I’m- I’m not gonna stop. Even if it’s not right. Even if we shouldn’t be doing this.” Louis tells him and pecks his mouth one, two, three times. “So what’s it gonna be?”

            “I’m not going to tell you to fuck off.” He decides. He _can’t_.

            “Good”, Louis leans in again and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling the soft skin and making Harry close his eyes at the pleasure.  Louis knows _exactly_ what Harry likes and _how_ he likes it.

            Harry likes to say he knows everything about Louis but fuck it if Louis doesn’t know everything about him too. Louis knows that if he uses his tongue to trace Harry’s lips but never really kisses him he’ll get impatient and _thirsty_ for one of those tongue-fucking kisses they’ve shared so many times.

            Louis knows that if he rubs Harry’s nipples over a flannel shirt repeatedly, he’ll squirm in bed much more than if there were no fabric between their skins. He knows that when he trails down Harry’s neck, sucking and biting and then sucking again, while one of his hands find his bulge, Harry’s hips will move at their own accords, and Harry will exhale the softest moan, even if inside he is already mad for some good fucking.

            And that is exactly what Louis does.

            He licks and sucks and bruises and roams his hands everywhere, never asking Harry to remove a piece of clothing. It’s driving him _mad_ is the thing. Louis grinds down and aligns their crotches, allowing himself a moan as well, the exact moment Harry chooses his grip his bum and move him on top of his own body.

            “Fuck.” He exhales in Harry’s neck, thighs by the side of his torso, ass on  Harry’s dick. “I want to be inside you, H.” Louis voices. “It’s been so long, just- _please._ ”

            Harry wants that too, _Jesus Christ_ does Harry want that. He lets a guttural sound escape his throat has he starts removing Louis’ shirt, watching his bare frame for the first time in such a long, long time.

            Louis is way skinnier than he used to be, but he still has some muscles on his arms, and Harry appreciates everything about him. He is the most gorgeous person Harry has ever laid eyes on. Louis gets on his knees and starts taking off his skinnies to, and Harry helps him the best he can, proceeding to take off his own shirt afterwards.

            Louis leans down for another kiss, only on his boxers now, and when their chests touch Harry can feel how much faster both their hearts are beating, God, they’re so much in sync with each other… All the sex Harry’s had _post_ Louis doesn’t even begin to compare to what they’re doing right now.  

            “Missed you so much”, Harry tells him when Louis starts kissing down his pecks, biting softly each one of them and licking towards Harry’s hips, tracing his laurel tattoos with the tip of his tongue and hooking his fingers on the waistband of Harry’s joggers to slide them down.

            He teases him, keeps his fingers there and blows hot air into Harry’s recently licked tattoos.

            “You know what I really miss?” He looks up. Harry’s already extremely flushed, but he goes from eight to eighty when he sees Louis’ eyes staring at him, so focused, so hungry, but so, so kind. “I miss your _might as well_ tattoo.” He smirks.

            “I do too, sometimes.” Harry says and is surprised when Louis takes off his pants at once.

            “Hm”, Louis smirks, “should’ve known you’d go commando”, he says and grabs Harry’s dick, making Harry close his eyes and throw his head back at the feeling.

            Louis hands have always been the right side of rough on him; he grips him hard and strokes him dry, up and down, and it hurts, yes, but it’s also so, so good. He kisses Harry’s thigh as he collects precome from the tip of his cock, and Harry’s hands go straight to his headboard so he doesn’t touch anything while Louis does his thing.

            It’s marvelous, it’s perfect, it’s everything Harry loves.

            “Lou- Lou please kiss me”, he pleads, “please.”

            Louis gives it to him, seems like he’s going to give it all.

            He gets rid of his own pants and finishes taking off Harry’s, and then climbs on top of his body again, going for a harsh kiss, hands everywhere, dicks touching. Jesus, he needed this, he needed him.

            “H—H”, he calls him twice. “Lube, condoms, where?”

            “Lube’s in the drawer, please tell me you have a condom.” Harry says, opening his eyes.

            “I… Might. I don’t know. Fuck.”

            It’s team work. Harry grabs the lube, Louis searches his wallet. He finds a condom there, thank fuck, Harry doesn’t know what they would’ve done if he hadn’t found it (probably sixty-nined, hm).

            Louis kisses him again, and it’s not slower, but it’s with as much passion as it would be if they were in the mood for any more foreplay. They’re _not_ , though. They’re both _desperate_ ; he is, extremely, and Harry knows Louis is too because he’s already being loud, dirty-talking while he coats his fingers and whimpering at the slightest friction his dick gets on the sheets, as he positions himself between Harry’s legs.

            Harry lifts them and hooks them over Louis’ shoulder, and he isn’t even surprised when Louis bites his inner thigh while circling his rim, teasing it, and spreading lube all around, applying certain pressure but never really going _in_. And it’s good. It’s been too long since he bottomed, last time probably being on a drunk night with Grimmy back in LA. Jesus, he needs to remember to tell Louis he slept with Nick. Later though. He’s definitely _not_ going to think about Nick now. Not when Louis is being so, _so_ good.

            “Lou-Lou please”, he asks.

            “Please what, love?”

            “Just sto- _ahh_ ”, he’s cut mid-sentence when Louis licks up his shaft. “Quit the teasing, babe, _please_.”

            This changes things, when Harry calls him _babe_ , that is. Louis slides one finger in and swallows his cock at the same time, and Harry screams, fisting the sheets, doing his best to stay still. Louis likes when he stays still.

 

            It doesn’t take much for him to get used to one finger, and sooner rather than later Louis’ already has three deep, hitting his prostate every now and then but missing sometimes on purpose, just so Harry can beg some more.

            Harry’s always torn between fucking down Louis’ fingers or fucking up into his mouth, but he doesn’t need to choose for long, because Louis lets of his cock to bend him in two, still fucking him merciless with his fingers and fucking his mouth with his tongue, groaning into the kiss just as much as Harry is.

            “Tell me you’re ready, need—fuck, need to be inside you _last year_.” Louis says.

            Harry nods and kisses Louis one more time, and he feels very empty when he takes off his fingers.

            “On your back”, Harrys says and Louis’ smile rivals the sun as he rolls on the bed and lies there.

            Harry doesn’t waste much time. He puts the condom on Louis and straddles his leg, kissing him one more time before sinking down in one go.

            “ _Oh fuCK-”_ Louis kind of screams and Harry absolutely loves it.

            If there is such thing as _perfect thickness_ , Louis has it. He fills Harry up just right and no dildo in the world could do such perfect job. Harry waits a bit so he can adjust and Louis’ eyes are glistening in adoration while he caresses Harry’s thighs and sides with the tip of his fingers.

            He then sits up on the bed and they’re as close as they can get in this position. Harry takes a deep breath and starts bouncing up and down. Louis helps him the best he can, groaning as loud as he gets when they’re together, and Harry cannot believe this is happening after such long time.

            Louis does everything right, always. He sucks one of Harry’s nipples into his mouth and Harry’s hips stutter at the pleasure, feeling each drag inside of him better than the other, seeing starts in front of him, seeing the world in Louis’ eyes.    

            Harry loves him. Harry loves him so much and this is why everything is better with them. Because nothing else matters when there’s this kind of connection between two people. Everything they do is _synchronized_. Louis lies down again and firms his feet on the mattress, thrusting up to meet Harry halfway, and Harry places both hands on his chest, using it as support so as not to lose balance.

            It’s when Louis hits his prostate that he falls forwards. He moans particularly loud (Harry’s usually quieter when he’s being thoroughly fucked) as he lets his body melt into Louis and Louis holds him by his ass, picking up his pace and breathing faster than before, a string of _uh-uh-uhs_ being sung in Harry’s ear.

            And then Louis’ stops.

            “Wh-”

            “Lay down.” He voices, barely being able to say two words without taking a deep breath again.

            It’s Harry’s time to roll over, but before he can think straight Louis is inside him again, knees on the bed and Harry’s legs hooked over his elbows. He thrusts fast and hard with a newfound strength that Harry much appreciates. And he’s close, yes, _he’s so close,_ he just needs—

            “Hands on the headboard, c’mon”, Louis says slowing his pace. Harry obeys. “I’m gonna make you come like this, okay?” He asks him, moving his body forwards so his wet lips are right on Harry’s ear. “Want you to come just from my cock, can you do that?”

            “I—”

            “You can, H. You always can. C’mon, love.” Louis grinds down and stays pressed right on Harry’s prostate…

            “Fuck, Louis, _fuckfuckfuck,_ babe, I-” it all comes out strangled; Harry can’t even breathe right now.

            Louis circles his hips right on his spot, massaging it and Harry just- he really, really loves it, him, this feeling, everything. It almost hurts, so good it is. Louis bites his earlobe and pulls with his teeth, one hand flicks Harry’s nipple, the other one goes to his hair and _yep_ , that’s it.

            “I- I’m gon-gonna.”

            “Come, H.”

            He does, on command. Damn.

            Louis is as surprised as he is. He goes back to fucking Harry, not giving him much time to ride his orgasm, just prolonging it and _now it hurts_ , it actually, really hurts but it’s better this way. So much better.

            “Keep going”, Harry tells him in nothing but a whisper, he feels weak, his legs are like jelly, but he thinks Louis hears it anyways, because he nods and fastens his pace searching his own orgasm.

            When he’s almost there, Louis pulls out. Harry understands what he’s doing, and helps him take of his condom.

            “Come up here”, he says, Louis straddles his chest, and strokes his dick faster and faster, the sound of his skin filling up the room and being louder than the music that was playing, which is long forgotten.

            “Uh, Harry, shit-” he says, his head falls forward. Harry places on hand on his ass and squeezes it, Louis _loves_ having his ass played with. His other hand goes to Louis fringe, taking it out of his forehead and holding it on the top of his head, closing his hand on a fist in his hair and Louis fastens the pace _even more_ , _“fuck, Harry-uh-aa-ah, fuuuck”_ , he comes. He comes and it’s glorious, and beautiful, and Harry realizes, right at this moment, that he can’t spend one more day away from him.

            Not again. Not _ever_ again.

 

-

 

            Neither of them sleeps, but it takes them both a while to come down from their highs. Harry is just waiting for it to hit him: the “what the fuck have you done?” or the “this is so wrong”. But it doesn’t. Thirty minutes pass; more, he thinks. Louis gets up and comes back with a cloth to clean them up. He puts on his boxers, checks his phone, puts it back in his jeans pocket, and gets back to bed. Not a word’s exchanged.

            Harry gets up then. He uses the bedroom, washes his face, and goes back to bed; he pulls a duvet over their bodies and lies on his side looking right back at Louis. There is a space between them that shouldn’t be there, but it’s… Good, somehow, because when he rests his hand in the middle, Louis catches it and brings it towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss on Harry’s knuckles.

            “Are you letting your hair grow back again?” Louis asks, voice soft. His thumb’s still caressing Harry’s hand. Harry simply nods for an answer. “Good. You’re just about to enter your headband phase. Headband Harry is a gift to mankind.”

            “Bought some new scarves already.” He tells him.

            “Course you did.” The other man smiles and for the first time Harry can see the crinkles by his eyes.

            “Missed this”, he traces them, right on the corner of Louis’ left eye. Louis closes his eyes and breathes in and out, deeply. “Missed all of you.”

            Louis scoots closer then. He hugs Harry by his waist and lays his head on Harry’s chest. Harry’s quick to entwine their legs. Yes. This is better. This is more familiar.

            “Jesus, Lou.” He sighs and hugs him tightly. “What now?” He asks.

            “What now what?”

            “ _Louis_.” Louis just hugs him tighter. “What now?” He’s scared of the answer, he can’t lie. But he needs to hear it.

            “Now…” The man sighs and sits up again, stares at Harry with stars in his eyes. “Now it is whatever you want it to be. I’m as in love with you as I was the day we broke up.” He states serenely. “I’m never _not_ going to be absolutely in love with you. What I’m _hoping_ for is that you’ll agree to give us a try again. What  I’m _hoping_ for is that we can be _us_ , finally, for everyone to see and that I’ll get to go to your movie premier with you to make everyone jealous. What I’m _hoping_ for is that you’re okay with Freddie, and that you’ll fall in love with him too and- and he’ll have the most awesome stepdad in the history of the universe.”

            Harry probably, most definitely has tears in his eyes.

            “But bottom line, H… Now it’s _whatever you want it to be_.”

            “D’you mean it though?” Harry sits too, grabs both of Louis’ hands in his. “Everything? D’you—the- the coming out stuff, the- _everything_? Meeting Freddie and all?”

            “I do.”

            “This shouldn’t be this simple.”

            “Why not?” Louis asks. “Everything has been _so_ fucking complicated from the minute we _met_. Why can’t this be a simple thing? Fuck, Harry, we deserve simple. And to be quite honest I can’t take fighting with you anymore, at least not when there’s no make-up sex afterwards...”

            They both laugh at that.

            “We deserve simple, don’t we?” Harry asks, searching for conformation in Louis’ eyes. Searching for the same thing he was a little over a year ago. He hadn’t seen it then, but he sees it now.

            “We do.” Louis nods and leans in, kissing his lips. “Please, H, let’s be happy together.” He says to his mouth.

            “Strange, isn’t it?” He asks.

            “What is?”

            “How you can still be desperately in love with someone when you haven’t been with them for months and months…” He laughs quietly. “I think it’s incredible how despite the distance between us, I could never stop loving you. That’s just how love works, I suppose. You either love someone forever or you never loved them to begin with. Love didn’t leave just because I chose to.” Harry tells him.

            “Lucky me, then.” Louis smiles and Harry can’t help but lean forwards and catch his mouth for a long kiss one more time.

            They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Harry’s mind was already made up the second he decided to have sex with Louis, but he feels like he needs to voice his thoughts.

            “I adore you, Louis Tomlinson. And I never stopped being yours.” He confesses, looking straight into his eyes.

            “Does this mean what I think it means?”

            “It means that your mom was right to give us those rings.” Harry smiles.

            “She always was.” Louis smiles fondly at him too, and then up. “ _Thanks for trusting me, mom_.” He says quietly. Harry does not shed a tear. He. Does. Not. In his mind, he thanks Jay too.

 

-

 

            In the morning of January first, the internet goes insane because there is a blurry picture of _Harry Styles_ kissing a man at a New Year’s Eve party in Los Angeles – a party held by Steve Aoki. In the afternoon, Louis shares a picture with his fans. It’s a good one.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys have a great New Year.  
> And I really, really hope 2017 is kinder to Louis. He definitely deserves it. (He deserves the world.)
> 
> See you around, much love <3  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly) | [tumblr](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com/)


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